I asked my younger self to please reveal
The secrets that she buried while I slept,
The truths that forged this life, not made of steel.
She looked at me so sweetly as she wept.
The answers that I seek, she says, aren’t mine
To find in waking hours. What I seek
Is hidden from the daylight by design:
Listen to the night, let darkness speak.
I strain to hear the whispers of my soul;
For guidance and direction both, I pray.
But silence greets my thoughts, demands a toll
My waking self cannot afford to pay.
I close my eyes and drift back into sleep,
Where ageless self in dreams all secrets keep.